


Sparkles Like an Emerald (but it's plastic just the same)

by flashforeward



Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Green With Evil Story Arc, Self-Harm, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Tommy Oliver
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashforeward/pseuds/flashforeward
Summary: Tommy Oliver thought he could finally move forward with his life, but then they had to move and now he feels like he's back at square one and he's angry and frustrated and feels so alone. Unfortunately, someone out there can use that anger for their own gain, and Tommy soon becomes the Power Rangers newest enemy. But it's different this time, because they want to save him from Rita's spell. But Tommy isn't sure he wants to be saved.





	1. The Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to wait to post this here until it was finished but I decided I needed to share it with as wide a range an audience as possible and Dreamwidth is still a bit on the quiet side. You can read it on dreamwidth [here](https://evilinsanemonkey.dreamwidth.org/637480.html) if you like.

Tommy had never left his jacket behind before. Because it was more than _just_ a jacket to him. To him it represented everything he'd fought for at his old school. It represented every fight he'd lost - like the unisex bathroom petition - and every fight he'd won. The fight to join the football team had been the victory that got him that jacket in the first place, a battle he'd fought because every warm blooded American boy was supposed to want to play football and maybe then his dad might stop seeing disappointment every time he looked at Tommy. That led to the fight to be 'one of the guys' instead of the 'girl on the team'. He never went so far as to tell them he _wasn't_ a girl. It was hard enough accepting that for himself let alone explaining it to a bunch of jocks. And always, _always_ , there was the fight against the assumptions people made every time they looked at him.  
  
They _saw_ girl.  
  
But he never felt like one, not really. He'd been better at pretending before it mattered, before puberty and periods and breasts. It was easy not to care about the differences before all that. Now they were all he could think about half the time, all the times he got called miss, all the looks people gave him when he corrected them, the way his teachers seemed to be casting him sideways looks when he asked them please can you call me Tommy instead of the name on his records. Every day was another reminder of all the battles he still had to fight.  
  
And that jacket was a symbol of how far he'd already come. It was hard won and he'd kept it with him right up until now. Until his first Big Fuck Up at his Brand New School.  
  
He'd gone to talk to the football coach about joining the team and some jockstrap had thrown his two cents in about an opening on the cheer squad and maybe they could "pretty" Tommy up a bit and, well, Tommy couldn't let that go so, yeah, he threw the first punch and now besides being the girl who wants to play football he's also that kid who got detention on his first day and he feels pretty fucking stupid thinking this, but it's almost like the jacket let him down.  
  
It was supposed to be a symbol, his hard earned armor, but now it was just a jacket.  
  
Which was why he'd left it on his chair while he went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and try to clam down. Because he was just so angry and frustrated and all of this felt like a huge step backward. Before the move he'd thought maybe he could finally start telling people they were wrong, that despite what they _saw_ , he _wasn't_ a girl. He'd thought he was ready, that those battles he'd won had all been leading up to something.  
  
But they'd had to move and now he was back to square one and it fucking _sucked._  
  
He stood over the sink, the water running over his hands. He had the hot tap on all the way and his skin was turning red but he just stared at it, eyes blurring with tears he didn't want to shed because real men didn't cry over a fucking jacket. He tried to tell himself that over and over, but it didn't help.  
  
He raised his head, blinking against the tears, and met his own gaze in the mirror. Met his gaze because he didn't want to take in the rest of his face any more than he had to - too round, too soft, too smooth. He'd liked his face once, but again that was before it had mattered, before people saw it and corrected themselves from sir to miss, from him to her. When he was younger and people commented on how much he looked like his dad - dark eyes, dark hair, big nose - he'd loved it. He still looked like his dad, but people made sure to call him _pretty_ instead of _handsome._  
  
He lowered his head again. His hands were kind of hurting and he supposed he ought to turn the water off but it was distracting him, the pain. It was something else to focus on instead of his thoughts and his fears and how exhausted he was all the time just from trying to be himself.  
  
Fuck, he could have slept forever.  
  
He let the water run for a few more seconds, then turned off the tap and stood there, letting his hands air dry. He should have been back in the detention room by now, would probably get another session stacked on top of the ones fighting on school grounds had already earned him, but he had to finish the ritual first. His hands had to cool down and dry in the air, no paper towels or hand dryers. He closed his eyes and ignored the trickle of tears, focusing instead on his hands and how they felt now that the water was off.  
  
He jumped when he heard the explosion. It was coming from the hallway and it jolted his thoughts, completely breaking his concentration and leaving him with the sour taste of worry in his mouth. He was in the men's bathroom because no one was at school this time of day so why the hell shouldn't he use the right bathroom for once? But an explosion meant people would come and teachers and it meant he had to get out of here before the hallway was full of students and he was spotted, that weird girl who thinks she's a boy.  
  
_Knows he's a boy_ , he reminded himself as he reluctantly dried his hands and headed out to the hall. a locker about halfway between the bathrooms and the stairs to the classroom was smoking, the door blown completely off.  
  
"What the hell," he muttered, walking slowly towards the debris even as he heard the pounding of footsteps coming up from the basement classroom. The teacher, Mr. Applebee, was in the lead, with Billy Cranston right next to him as he walked purposefully towards the wreckage.  
  
"This might be my bad," Billy said. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head at the same time so Tommy wasn't sure if he was admitting to causing the damage or trying not to admit to it. "Didn't you ever want to watch something blow up when you were a kid?"  
  
Mr. Applebee shot him a glare and shook his head. "You're going to help clean this up," he said. "All of you," he added when Skull, ever the bully, snickered. "Wait here, don't touch anything, I'm getting someone from maintenance. Billy," he met Billy's gaze, "your job is to make sure nothing here is still dangerous."  
  
"Oh, it was never dangerous, Mr. Applebee," Billy said. "I carefully calculated-"  
  
"Billy," Mr. Applebee cut him off, "I need to get someone to help you, all right?" Billy nodded and Mr. Applebee walked briskly down the hall, leaving a group of students with detention alone in a hallway with an exploded locker.  
  
Maybe not his smartest move, Tommy thought.  
  
Skull immediately made a break for it, but Jason Scott - everyone had been chomping at the bit to tell Tommy everything there was to know about Jason Scott - grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the crowd. "Hey!" Skull protested, struggling against Jason's grip. "If he's just gonna leave us here, we should split!"  
  
"We're staying," Jason said. "You're staying. And you're helping."  
  
Billy was crouched in front of the locker, hands working fast as he talked himself through double checking his device, making sure it was inert now. Everyone besides Skull seemed pretty okay with waiting. Hell it definitely struck Tommy as a better use of time than homework or that better choices workbook. It was something different, kind of entertaining, and it counted as their detention for today.  
  
But something was bothering Tommy. Something besides 'how did you get an explosive device into school' - he didn't know Billy Cranston very well but from what he'd gathered it was a safe bet Billy could make almost anything out of almost anything.  
  
"Who's locker is that?" Tommy asked after a moment, unable to ignore the question.  
  
"Mine," a girl in yellow said, Tommy didn't know her name yet. He looked over to her, but she didn't elaborate, just stood with her arms crossed, staring at him as if daring him to keep talking. He shrugged. It wasn't his business if she let her friends blow up her locker.  
  
Her eyes stayed fixed on him, though. Standing there in just his t-shirt and jeans, he felt his skin crawl. He felt exposed, naked. He backed away from her, then circled around the crowd of kids, far away from Jason, heading for the stairs to the classroom.  
  
"How come you're letting him go?" Skull asked, his voice chasing Tommy down into the cold classroom. He didn't hear Jason's reply, didn't care, just needed his jacket, needed it now. Because it was so much more. Sure it had failed him, hadn't protected him as much as he'd needed it to, but it was still the only armor he had.  
  
He scooped it up off the back of his chair and pulled it on, blowing out a sigh of relief as he slid his arms into the sleeves. It wasn't perfect, and it couldn't protect him from everything, but it was better than nothing and it had gotten him this far.


	2. The Crystal

He'd been right, cleaning up the locker wreckage had been a hell of a lot more interesting than doing that better choices workbook. It was completely voluntary, but not doing it meant going back down to the classroom and doing homework or the workbook and not even Skull wanted to do that. Billy had assured them that his explosives weren't active anymore and they all set to work helping clean up the debris and get a new door fixed on the hinges of the locker - apparently this was a common enough occurrence at Angel Grove High that they had a supply - and Tommy actually kind of felt like part of the group.  
  
But then it was time to go home and everyone went their separate ways - Jason, Billy, Kimbelry, Zack, and the girl in yellow - who's name, Tommy now knew, was Trini - broke off from the rest of them as soon as Mr. Applebee told them it was time to go home. They made an odd group, but no one was phased by it. Tommy guessed that was a long, deep friendship and felt a pang of jealousy as he watched them walk out into the late-afternoon sunshine.  
  
He couldn't remember the last time he'd had friends he was _that_ close to. Elementary school, probably. But even if it had been recent, he would have left them all behind to come here to Angel Grove. He scuffed his shoes along the floor as he walked outside, hands deep in his jacket pockets, head down. The kids around him were chatting and laughing and he was just alone in a sea of people, which had pretty much become his default over the past few years. It was hard to connect to people when he could barely connect to himself.  
  
He was supposed to wait outside for his mom to pick him up, but he didn't see the familiar car when he gets to the parking lot and he didn't really feel like standing around looking like even more of a loser than he already did, with no one to talk to and no one to hang out with, so he hitched his bag higher up on his shoulder and started walking. He knew he should go straight home, was pretty sure he'd be grounded for even longer if he didn't, but he also didn't want to face his parents again. Not yet. It was bad enough sitting in the principal's office watching his mom's reaction to what he'd done. He didn't want deal with their disappointment right now, wanted to put it off for as long as he could.  
  
Besides, if worse came to worse he could just tell them he wanted to explore his new home. It wouldn't be a complete lie, he did need to know his way around if he ever got ungrounded. He had to find the places he could hide, the spots no one would look for him or notice him. He had to figure out how best to disappear. He knew the excuse wouldn't actually placate his parents, but at least he'd have an excuse. That was better than just saying he didn't feel like going home.  
  
He _didn't_ feel like going home.  
  
He walked slowly, head down and hands in his pockets. A lot of streets were crowded with construction crews from some superhero battle that had apparently gone down outside the Krispy Kreme shortly before Tommy arrived. Tommy wasn't sure he believed any of what people said about it. Seemed more likely to him that a tremor had hit a little harder than they'd expected, maybe even shifted to a full blown earthquake. But while he could understand teenagers wanting to liven up their lives by telling stories of masked heroes saving their town from a big bad evil, he couldn't make that mesh with news reports or photographs. Mass hysteria coupled with some science fiction convention everyone had conveniently forgotten about?  
  
Of course, none of that explained the giant dinosaurs.  
  
He supposed he could just accept that what people said happened had happened. It felt ridiculous, more like he'd moved onto a movie set than an actual town, but even as he neared the wreckage that had once been a donut shop he had to admit all the evidence seemed to point to powerful super beings brawling on main street. He stood on the sidewalk, watching the work being done on the demolished buildings across the street. He wondered if the franchise owners cared enough to rebuild and reopen, or if they would leave that particular property open for the next chain store to move in. He wasn't sure it really mattered beyond wondering how much of an impact a donut shop had on a small town.  
  
Enough of one that some mega-being wanted to destroy it, apparently.  
  
He wondered what was so important a giant golden monster had had to punch a hole in the building's foundation. What would someone hide beneath a Krispy Kreme? Or did they just really like donuts? Or really hate them, for that matter.  
  
Tommy shook his head and turned away, kicking at stones as he continued his round-about route home. This town was fucking weird.  
  
He turned down an alley that dead ended in a brick wall, dumpsters pushed up against it. He climbed up onto one and looked over the wall, wondering what was on the other side. Not a hell of a lot. He stood, hands on the sun-warmed bricks, staring out over the houses and lawns of Angel Grove. He felt separate here in a different way than he usually did. Usually he was the outsider because of who he was, what he was. But here, standing on a dumpster looking at the backs of houses he felt like an outsider in a more important way. Like a god overlooking his creation, deciding if it was good or not.  
  
Opinion on Angel Grove still pending.  
  
He shook his head and turned, jumping down. Something clattered off of his foot, skittering underneath the dumpster. He knelt down, peering into the gloom, and whatever it was somehow caught the light from the setting sun. A green glow shone out, crossing Tommy's face like it was studying his features. He reached out carefully, not wanting to brush up against anything particularly gross, and closed his fingers around it. It was smooth and cool, but it warmed quickly in his hand. He sat back on his heels and looked down at his discovery: a strange green crystal.  
  
He might have sat there for the rest of the day and just stared at this crystal, studying it, feeling the strange thrum that seemed to emanate from it, but his phone rang then. His power ballad ring-tone shattered the silence, making him jump. He fumbled the crystal, his heart seeming to stop for a moment as he lunged to catch it before it hit the ground again. He didn't know why, but somehow it felt important to hold on as tight as he could and never let go. When he was sure of his grip, he stood up and slipped the crystal into his pocket, swapping it out for his phone just as the call went to voicemail.  
  
He had seven texts and one missed call from his house.  
  
 _Shit._  
  
He was fucking screwed.  
  
He'd have to run home. His binder, already on for too long that day, seemed to compress even further at the thought, but Tommy just forced himself to take as deep a breath as he could before setting off at a brisk jog towards home.  
  
Out in the dark cold of space, Rita Repulsa floated quietly towards the moon. Her stasis prevented her from smiling as she felt the crystal probing at their bond, wondering if it was allowed to choose a new warrior.


	3. The Anger

Tommy knew sorry wasn't going to cut it. He was already grounded for fighting, already in shit tons of trouble for not being where he was supposed to be, and definitely in even more trouble for wandering around town. Still, the first thing out of his mouth when he burst through the door was, "I'm sorry!"

He didn't even really mean it, but he knew he was supposed to say it.

"Room," his mom said, pointing to the stairs. Nothing else. No shouting, no asking him what he was thinking. She didn't even really sound angry, just disappointed. And that was worse. That was the worst. Tommy would rather have the yelling, the anger, than look in his mom's eyes and see just how much he had let her down.

He'd been letting her down a lot lately.

He jogged up the stairs, feeling her eyes on him every step. In his room he fell back on the bed. His chest ached. His whole body ached. He should get up, take his binder off before it caused any damage. He should do his homework. He should figure out how to come out to his parents. He should do a lot of things, but he just lay there staring up at the ceiling. He didn't want to move or think. He didn't want to be awake but he didn't want to sleep.

He was starting to drift off anyway, though.

He groaned and rolled out of bed, shucking his shirt and then carefully wriggling out of his binder. He pulled his shirt and jacket back on immediately, doing his best not to look down and see his chest, then crawled back into bed and lay there.

Wide awake again.

He should have just kept the binder on, consequences be damned.

But no. If he got injured wearing his binder he would have to tell his parents about it and explain why he had it and that meant explaining who he was and how he wasn't their little girl and he wasn't ready for that yet. Wasn't sure he'd ever be ready for that.

A soft knock came at the door. "Can we talk?" his mom.

He should have said yes. He should have opened the door, told her to come in, made room for her to sit on his bed while they talked. He imagined, for a moment, finally telling her the truth. Answering that ever present parental question: what is going on with you today?

Instead, he rolled onto his side, tucked his pillow under his head, and closed his eyes.

He heard the click as his mom opened the door. Knew she was taking a moment, studying him asleep. He wondered what she saw. He heard her sigh, then the door closed and he was alone again. Alone and angry and tired in a way that sleep could not fix.

Maybe later her would wonder what would have been different if he'd talked to his mom. If he hadn't jumped up on that dumpster. If he had waited at school to be picked up instead of wandering around Angel Grove. But what ifs had never done him any good before. He'd been through so many - what if I'd been born in the right body? What if my brain fit my skin? - and they never helped in anyway. It wasn't a dwelling on the past thing, it wasn't a don't wish for what you can't have thing, it was just a quiet acceptance that nothing was ever going to change anyway.

And with his mind laughing in the face of its own wishes and what ifs, Tommy drifted off to fitful sleep and stranger dreams than he had ever had.

The woman in green reached out for him. Her fingernails were like claws and as they neared his face he thought she would scratch him. She didn't, just trailed the tips of her nails lightly along his cheek and then gripped his chin with strong fingers, forcing him to hold her gaze. "Do you feel the power?" she asked.

Tommy stood in the alleyway. He stared at the dumpster, the crystal clutched in his fist. He bent his knees then jumped, landing heavily on the top of the dumpster. So heavily it buckled under him. "Do you feel the power?" the woman in green asked. He could not see her, but her voice echoed around him, filled him.

He was standing on the ocean. Not in it, not letting the surf lap at his ankles as he stood just off the shore. He stood on the water out in the middle of the ocean. "He's calling to you, your guardian," the woman in green said. "He can feel your power."

He stood before the full length mirror hanging on the back of the bathroom door. He was naked, his body wrong, his skin prickling. He tried to look away or close his eyes but he couldn't he just had to stare at himself, at everything he tried to hide from the world and from himself every day. "We can fix you," the woman in green said. Tommy blinked and when he opened his eyes, he was the one in green. A suit of green armor like that worn by the masked heroes who had saved Angel Grove. His chest is flat, though he can't feel the tightness of a binder. "This power was meant for you," the woman in green whispered, appearing behind him, her lips pressed to where his ear is hidden by his helmet. "This power can change you, save you."

Do you feel it?

Her voice was still echoing in his mind as he sat up, gasping. His mouth was dry, his skin cold with sweat like he'd just woken from a nightmare. His heart beat hard in his chest and he sat hunched over on his bed, his breathing ragged. His hands were shaking as he held them out in front of him, but they were just hands. Had he really expected to wake up in that armor? To wake up and find his body had magically become right?

He shook his head and slid off the bed, standing and staring at the mirror over his dresser. He was glad it only showed him from the shoulders up, but it was still too much. Especially now. Especially after that dream. Nightmare. Whatever it was. He wasn't afraid. He was angry. Angry at what he had glimpsed, what had been his for a few short minutes of sleep but had been ripped away as he woke.

Just another pipe dream that would never come true.

"Damn it!" he screamed. His fists balled tight at his sides, he could feel the press of his fingernails in his palms. His eyes were blurred with tears. His whole body felt tight and he wanted to tear his skin off piece by piece until he's shed this outer layer of lies and revealed the truth waiting beneath.

If only it were that easy. If only that was all it took. Wish hard enough. Dream vivid enough.

If only.

"Tommy, are you all right?" His mom was at the door again, her voice was high and tight. Angry. Now she sounded angry.

Tommy was used to angry. He felt it every day. Every time he saw himself in the mirror. Every time he listened to another principal explain why they couldn't provide gender neutral changing rooms. Every time he had to explain to another person that the name on his records was not his name but a placeholder. Every time his parents looked at him like all their dreams had died with him. Were dying with him. Tommy was used to angry, but he still couldn't handle it well.

"Go away," he said, struggling to keep his voice calm and reasonable.

"Tommy, we need to talk."

Persistent. His parents were nothing if not persistent.

"I said go away!"

There was an award on his bedside table. From gymnastics. Before he'd started growing in all the wrong ways and leotards showed off everything he wanted to hide. He missed gymnastics but even the euphoric release of a good workout couldn't fix what was wrong with him. He scooped the award up, hefted it, and hurled it across the room.

It hit the mirror. Glass shattered. His door burst open as he fell to his knees on the floor, hugging himself tight even as he felt his mother's arms wrap around him, too. Holding him, whispering to him. All the anger in her gone now, replaced by worry and fear.

Tommy cried and clutched at his mom, wishing she could make this better like she'd made things better when he was younger. Kiss him on the cheek and make everything all right.

But life didn't work that way.

So Tommy was just stuck, full of anger and useless wishes and dreams that meant nothing. Please, he thought, his face buried in his mother's shoulder, please someone help me.

And far away from Earth, drifting closer to the moon, Rita Repulsa felt her plan take root.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder from one trans guy to any others who may be reading this: do not sleep with your binder on. Also do not double bind. I know the chest struggle well, I know it sucks, but please bind safely.


	4. The Armor

The upside of Sunday was Tommy didn't have to go in for another session of detention. The downside of Sunday was he was still grounded, which meant once his chores and homework were done he was still stuck in his room with nothing to do but think. He tried to make everything last as long as possible, but when it took him thirty minutes to unload the dishwasher his mom got that look and he wound up finishing his chores at his usual pace. As far as his homework was concerned, his math and science were good distractions but all he had for history and English was reading which was hard enough at the best of times but today he couldn't focus.  
  
He kept thinking about the woman in green.  
  
It was just a dream, he knew that. There was no woman in green. He didn't have armor, didn't even know why he _wanted_ it. It wasn't like it was going to magically make everything right.  
  
Except it had.  
  
In his dream, it had.  
  
He held his arms out in front of him, staring down at his hands as if wishing hard enough would make the armor appear.  
  
He knew better. Wishing hard enough never did anything except make the disappointment hurt that much worse.  
  
"Do you really believe that?"  
  
Tommy jumped, sending his book to the floor with a thump. He looked around, but there was no one there. There wouldn't have been, anyway, the voice didn't belong to either of his parents. It was the woman in green. Except he wasn't asleep, so why was he hearing her? He wasn't losing it on top of everything else, was he? That would be just fucking typical.  
  
He closed his eyes, pressed the heel of his palm to the bridge of his nose and pulled in a deep breath. He held it for a five count, then released it slowly. He repeated the process four times before he let his hand drop back to his lap and he opened his eyes.  
  
He was on the moon.  
  
He had to be dreaming.  
  
The woman in green was standing in front of him. She was smiling, trying to smile kindly but it wasn't really...Tommy's left thigh grew warm and he reached his hand into his pocket, letting his fingers brush over the smooth crystal. Yes, he realized, she was kind. She was very kind and understanding and it was good of her to take the time to speak with him.  
  
Tommy hesitated, not sure what was happening, but after a moment he smiled back.  
  
The woman's eyes seemed to grow brighter.  
  
"Hello," she said. "My name is Rita, what's yours?"  
  
"Tommy," Tommy answered. His mind felt sluggish and his whole body seemed to be weighted down. Which made no sense on the moon. Except he wasn't really on the moon, he was dreaming, so it did make sense, he supposed, in a way only dreams can. "What's happening?" he asked, struggling with every word.  
  
Rita's smile was fixed, rigid, frightening.  
  
The crystal warmed his palm.  
  
No, sad. Her smile was sad. She was sorry for him.  
  
"I heard you, Tommy," Rita said. "I heard you crying out for help and I have come to help you." She held her hands out, palms up. "Will you let me help you, Tommy?"  
  
Her fingernails were long, like claws just waiting to tear into him.  
  
The crystal nearly burned his palm it was so hot.  
  
She was reaching out to him. She wanted to help him. All he had to do was take her hand.  
  
His arm moved so slowly he thought he would wake up before his skin met hers, but their hands met. Hers was cold, icy. "Are you all right?" he asked.  
  
"I've been in space for longer than is advisable, even for me," she answered.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"That's all right, it isn't your fault. But you can help me, Tommy. You can stop the people who did this to me and help me come back. Would you like to help me, Tommy?"  
  
She held his gaze. In his pocket, the crystal sat hot and heavy against his leg. Her fingers tightened around his hand, the nails digging into his skin. He drew in a gasp, his mind clearing for a moment before Rita seemed to realize what she was doing and loosened her grip. The heaviness returned and Tommy gave a slow, tired nod. "Yes," he said. "I'll help you."  
  
"That's good," Rita said. "We'll help each other. That will be nice, won't it?"  
  
"Yes. That will be nice."  
  
There was a knock on the door. Tommy blinked and stared around at his room. He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs of sleep. He had to stop dozing off in the middle of the day.  
  
"Yeah?" he called out when the knock came again.  
  
"We're ordering in, Chinese or Pizza?" his mom asked.  
  
"Chinese, please," Tommy answered. He didn't bother to tell her what he wanted, he was predictable on that front. He always got the same thing, so his parents had stopped asking. He always thought that one of these days he ought to try something new, but every time he looked at a menu to try and be adventurous he wound up going with what he always had. So he'd stopped looking. Fallen into a routine.  
  
He liked routine.  
  
He blew out a breath and picked his book up from the floor, trying to stop thinking about that stupid dream.  
  
Except in his pocket, the crystal was still warm. Warmer than it had been before the dream. It pressed into his leg, a constant reminder of everything that had just happened.  
  
No.  
  
Everything he had dreamed.  
  
He didn't go to the moon. It was a dream. There was no Rita. No one was going to help him. The stone was just warm because it was in his pocket and his body heat had warmed it up. That was it. Nothing strange or mysterious, no women in green, no impossible promises, just another dream to remind Tommy of how little chance he had at conquering every hurdle still in his path.  
  
He sprawled out on his bed, book propped open on his pillow, staring at the words on the page. He couldn't make them make sense. They were just marks, scratches on paper. He couldn't get his eyes to focus on them, let alone his mind. He sighed and let the book fall closed, sitting up and digging his hand into his pocket, pulling the crystal out. He held it in front of him, cupped in his palm. It was just as it had been when he'd first picked it up.  
  
Except warmer.  
  
Had he gone to the moon? Had this rock somehow transported him into outer space, protecting him from the atmosphere and the cold, then brought him back when his mom knocked on the door?  
  
He set the crystal on his bedside table, letting it catch the light from his window, and as he broke contact with it his mind seemed to clear.  
  
There had been no trip to the moon. He'd just had another strange dream. And the woman in green, Rita, she was no more real than his adventure in space. And even if she were, why would she want to help him? She didn't even know him. And he didn't know her, so why did she think he would want to help her?  
  
Tommy closed his eyes tight. His head was hurting. He felt exhausted and lost. If he had fallen asleep, it hadn't been very restful.  
  
He turned back to his book, forcing himself to focus on the words this time. His progress was slow. He kept looking at the crystal, longing to pick it up again, to feel its warmth and be assured that it was still there. That the crystal itself wasn't just a dream. _One more sentence_ , he would promise himself. One more sentence and he would pick it up, put it back in his pocket. And after every sentence, he forced himself through one more.  
  
By the time he finished the chapter, he couldn't stand it anymore.  
  
He grabbed the crystal and held it tight, his body shaking. In his mind, he heard Rita's voice as soon as his skin met the stone: _Focus on the anger_ , she said, _let it guide you_.  
  
That was easy enough. There was so much Tommy was angry about. His body, his mind, his inability to tell his parents the truth, his parents and their inability to just know - it wasn't fair, he knew, to feel that way, but it was so obvious to him and it hurt that they couldn't see it.  
  
He closed his eyes and let his anger wash over him, let it take over instead of trying to force it down and ignore it. He thought through every fight at school, every thing he'd been called - every put down and every 'joke'. He focused on how it felt each morning, catching sight of himself in the mirror. How it felt at night, lying in bed, drained after another day of living in this ill fitting skin. Another day of fighting other people's perceptions.  
  
 _Open your eyes_ , Rita said.  
  
Tommy did. His hands were covered in that glittering armor.  
  
He'd done it.  
  
 _Your anger is your strength_ , Rita said as he admired his arms, ran his hands down his flattened chest. _Let it guide you, Tommy_ , she said.  
  
From downstairs, his mother's voice shattered the moment and the armor retreated from his skin. "Dinner, Tommy!" she yelled.  
  
Tommy took a moment, his heart pounding, to let what had just happened settle in. Rita was real and she really _had_ helped him.   
  
And he would help her.


	5. The Power

"There's just one thing I need first," Rita told him. "And you can get it for me, can't you, Tommy?"  
  
Yes. Of course he could.  
  
"Do you remember where you found the crystal? There's something else near there that I need, something too important to leave lying in the street."  
  
What was it?  
  
"My staff, Tommy. My golden staff. Once I have that I can get to work on returning to earth."  
  
The street was quiet this late at night. The construction equipment sat abandoned, like hulking beasts in the shadows just out of reach of the glow of the street lamps. He wondered, as he walked down the deserted street, if he would be able to find the staff out here. It could have been anywhere. It could have already been buried in the foundation for whatever building was going to replace Krispy Kreme. There was a sour twist of worry in the back of Tommy's mouth at the thought that he might not be able to find it.  
  
What would Rita do to him then?  
  
His chest grew warm. Rita would understand. Rita knew this was a difficult task, that was why she had trusted it to Tommy.  
  
He was almost to the now empty lot when they arrived. The Power Rangers. Rita had warned him they were likely to come. He wasn't sure how they knew, but Rita said Zordon had technology that told him when someone used the morphing grid. He didn't know who, she had assured Tommy, only that someone had. And he would, she said, dispatch the Rangers, send someone else to fight like the coward he was.  
  
Which was all the better for Tommy. The Rangers were the reason Rita was trapped in space. The Rangers were the reason she didn't have what she needed to return. So Tommy had to fight them, destroy them, because Rita couldn't.  
  
There were five of them, each a different color. Red, blue, yellow, pink, and black. Once, green had stood among them. Rita hadn't told him that, but it was pretty obvious. It was the same armor, it only made sense that whoever wore it had once counted themselves a member of the team. Tommy didn't know what had happened. Maybe the rest of them were too self righteous or overbearing. There were a lot of things that could drive a team apart, Tommy knew.  
  
Red was in the lead as they spread out in front of Tommy in a v-pattern. They seemed surprised - as surprised as they could seem with their faces hidden by helmets. Still, Red's steps faltered as he approached Tommy. He wasn't sure what to do, what it meant to be up against one of their own.  
  
Except Tommy wasn't one of their own. Never had been, never would be. So when Red reached him, probably hoping to reason with him, Tommy threw a straight punch to Red's chest with as much strength as he could muster.  
  
Tommy wasn't weak. He worked out a lot, trying to overcompensate, to perfect what about his body he could control. Now, his own strength combined with the power the crystal gave him sent Red stumbling back a few steps - Red definitely hadn't been expecting that.  
  
"Stay out of my way," Tommy said, striding forward purposefully. He didn't expect the Rangers to move back, and they didn't. After the initial shock of the punch, Red was quick to stand his ground, guard up. They knew how to fight. Good. That would make this all the more fun.  
  
It wasn't that Tommy liked violence, but he had so much pent up hurt and frustration and anger and this was finally a way to let it out. It might not have been the healthiest solution to his problem, but it was the first one that had come along that he felt capable of doing.  
  
"Who are you?" Red asked. He wasn't pressing an attack and the others were clearly waiting for his move. It was five against one, they could easily beat him, but they clearly wanted a fair fight.  
  
Admirable.  
  
Tommy strode forward quickly, directing strikes at Red's center. Red just blocked, never went to strike back. He'd get tired eventually and Tommy would get a strike through, but that still left the other four. This wasn't going to get him anywhere.  
  
"You're in my way," Tommy said, rushing forward and taking Red back with a hard push to the shoulders. Red wasn't expecting it and stumbled before he came in with a right hook. It was sloppy and Tommy blocked it easily, but the straight punch Red threw next hit him right in the chest. The power behind it was unexpected and Tommy retreated, breathing heavily. He should have known Red would have just as much force behind his punches as Tommy did, they all had the same powers, but Tommy had gotten ahead of himself. He had gotten caught up in the adrenaline of the fight and forgotten this wasn't a typical brawl.  
  
Still, he was surprised the others hadn't stepped in yet.  
  
Did they think that if they could subdue him they could turn him? Convince him they were who he wanted to be allied with?  
  
Fat chance of that.  
  
Tommy pressed forward again, quick jabs to Red's face and torso. Red blocked easily, but he was being driven back. Towards where Tommy wanted to be. Perfect.  
  
"Why are you fighting us?" Red asked. "You're one of us. You're a Power Ranger."  
  
"Maybe it's Rita," another voice chimed in. Yellow. "She was the green ranger before."  
  
"The chances of Rita surviving in space are practically nonexistent," Blue said. "And even if she could, how would she get back?"  
  
Tommy kept pressing the attack. Were they going to logic their way into a corner? Were they holding back because it wouldn't be fair to go five on one?  
  
Tommy threw a roundhouse kick to Red's center, catching him off guard and sending him to his knee. Tommy grinned to himself as he brought a hammer fist down towards Red's head, but the strike was blocked by a black-clad arm.  
  
"You're fighting me now," Black said, pressing Tommy with the same attack Tommy had just used on Red. Except Black switched his feet up, switched directions, drove Tommy back and was gone before Tommy could counter. Black was fast. "Not so tough now, are you?" he asked. He hit Tommy's chin with a left hook, then got him in the leg with a hard kick. Once Tommy was down, Black locked his elbow, holding him down with a hand on his neck.  
  
The other four came up, Red in the lead, and looked down at Tommy.  
  
"What do you want?" Red asked.  
  
"What do you care?" Tommy countered, struggling against Black's hold, though every time he shifted his elbow screamed at him to stay still. "You did your part, leave the rest of us alone now."  
  
"You're wearing Rita's armor," Red said.  
  
"I'm wearing _my_ armor," Tommy spat. He tried to lunge forward, crying out at the pull on his shoulder and elbow. But the movement surprised Black and Tommy broke free, diving for Red's legs and taking him down to the ground. Red immediately tried to wrap him up but Tommy wasn't interested in grappling, he was up before Red could get a grip, jumping over Red's prone form and running for the former donut shop.  
  
He knew they were pursuing him, but he didn't care. They didn't matter right now. What mattered was finding that staff.  
  
He passed the vacant lot and shot down an alley. It wasn't the one where he had found the crystal. In fact, it was directly opposite the one where he found the crystal. He had a theory, and since it beat just searching every nook and cranny one by one he may as well start here.  
  
But the alley was dark and empty. Tommy stopped short, disappointed, staring at the brick walls as though willing the staff to appear.  
  
He heard footsteps coming towards him him, racing to catch up. One or two were probably flanking him and another might be trying to head him off - not that he really knew where he was going yet. He jumped, hitting the wall of one of the buildings at an angle and jumping over to the other wall a little higher up, going back and forth until he reached a roof. Up there, with a bit of a vantage point, he started running again. Just picked a direction and went, keeping a look out for anything gold - _It's gold_ , Rita had said, running a long fingernail lightly down his cheek. _You can't miss gold_.  
  
There was no guarantee Tommy would be able to spot the staff, even from up here, but he kept his eyes peeled. Rita was so adamant about having her staff back. It was so important to her. Tommy didn't know what she needed it for, but he had to get it for her or she would find someone else to help her. Probably. The crystal in Tommy's chest pulsed with warmth and his thoughts shifted, reminding him that Rita needed him, that she wouldn't discard him so easily. But no matter how hot the crystal grew, he couldn't shake the feeling that Rita didn't give a shit about him. That he could easily be replaced. It didn't matter who did her bidding - _helped her_ \- all that mattered was that she got what she wanted.  
  
Tommy stumbled at the edge of a roof, tumbling down to the road below. He hit hard, his breath forced from his lungs in a sharp exhale. He coughed, struggled, tried to breath. His head ached and his chest was burning and he couldn't catch a breath.  
  
Shining helmets in five different colors appeared above him before the black started to eat at his vision.  
  
But there, in the trees behind them, he saw something and managed to pull in a sharp gasp, filling his lungs with much needed air.  
  
"Are you ready to listen to us?" Yellow asked, standing with a hip cocked and arms crossed over her chest.  
  
Red glanced Yellow's way and shook his head before returning his attention to Tommy. "Are you ready to _talk_ to us?" he amended.  
  
Tommy weighed the situation. He was prone, he was still having trouble getting his breath under control, he had a splitting headache, and his chest felt like it was on fire. He couldn't fight his way through, not in this condition, but if he could lull them into a false sense of security he might be able to sneak past them and get to his prize.  
  
But did he want to?  
  
He cried out as his chest grew hotter. What the _hell_ was that?  
  
"I'd take that as a no," Black said, raising a fist. Red held out a hand to stop him, waited.  
  
Tommy clenched his teeth against the pain in his head and forced himself to nod. Red offered him a hand and he took it, grinning to himself and grateful for the mask that hid it. He pulled hard, harder than necessary, and Red stumbled towards him as Tommy got to his feet and wove between Red and Yellow, racing across to the tree. He jumped, catching a mid branch and pulled himself up, swinging his way towards the glint of gold he had seen.  
  
God he hoped it wasn't just some toy or a reflection of the moon.  
  
But no, there. He saw it nestled a little higher up. He glanced down, saw the Rangers pursuing him, and reached for the staff. He missed on his first try and had to find a new foot hold before he could make another attempt. By then, Black was right behind him, reaching for him. And as Tommy's hand closed around the staff, Black's closed around Tommy's ankle and together they tumbled from the tree.  
  
Tommy clutched the staff tight and felt his whole body grow warm.  
  
He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact of the ground, but when it took too long to come he opened them and saw that he was sitting armor-less on his bed.  
  
And, most importantly, the staff was in his hand.


	6. The Secrets

  
_You got lucky, you fool._  
  
He woke with a start, Rita's words loud as a shout in his mind. He sat up in bed, staring around at his room, wondering how he got back. Did the Rangers discover who he was and take him home? That seemed unlikely. If they had him, they would have taken him to their base of operations, maybe tied him up, definitely interrogated him. They wouldn't take him home and tuck him into bed.  
  
 _Is it safe, damn it?_ Rita's voice again. Tommy jumped at the sound and slid out of bed, memories from the night before slowly surfacing. He remembered grabbing the staff, remembered Black grabbing him, remembered falling, and remembered finding himself back home. How he still couldn't sort out, but he was here and that was what was important.  
  
 _The staff is what's important, boy!_  
  
Tommy shook his head, trying to quiet Rita's voice as he crouched down on the floor and looked under his bed. He pushed aside a few boxes and there, lying up against the wall, was Rita's staff. He only noticed the pressure in his head as it eased - Rita was relieved. She was quiet now, probably trying to figure out how he was going to get the staff to her when she was on the moon. He sat down on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, and stared at the gold stick, wondering what the point of all that had been. He'd gotten into a fight with people who had done nothing to him all for a hunk of gold for a woman who was supposedly in outer space.  
  
Sitting in the sunlight shining through his window, it all suddenly seemed so ridiculous. If the staff weren't right in front of him, he might think everything had been a dream. From the crystal to last night's antics. But there it was. And here he was, magically in his bedroom.  
  
 _Not magic_ , Rita supplied, finally breaking her sudden silence. _You moved through the morphing grid._  
  
"How?" Tommy asked. he knew he didn't have to say it out loud, but for some reason that made him feel better about the whole thing.  
  
Rita was quiet again, the silence long and heavy. Then, terse and quick, _I don't know._  
  
Rita was quiet for awhile after that, which made Tommy nervous. Even his mom noticed how jumpy he was at breakfast, feeling his forehead and offering to call the school and tell them he was sick. He was tempted to say yes, was about to accept the offer because he wasn't sure when he'd next get another one considering how much shit he had been in lately, but that was when Rita spoke again, _I can tell you who they are_ , she said, _the Power Rangers._  
  
"I'm fine, mom," Tommy said after a moment's hesitation. He grabbed a pop-tart and kissed her goodbye. "I can walk to school," he said, slipping quickly out the door.  
  
\--  
  
Jason Scott, Billy Cranston, Trini Kwan, Zack Taylor, and Kimberly Hart. Those were the five names Rita gave to Tommy as he walked to school, surprised at how quickly the route was becoming familiar. His mom was supposed to drive him while he was grounded, drop him off before she went to work, but he knew she wouldn't begrudge him some alone time. He was spending all of his time cooped up either in school or at home, and if anyone was going to have a soft spot for letting him roam free just a little it was his mom. His dad was rule-strict. He could understand how Tommy felt, but rules were rules and the rules they'd set down said Tommy had to be in their sights at all times when he wasn't at home or school.   
  
He supposed that was fair. He was in trouble, after all.  
  
But today he needed to walk because he needed to think. Jason, Billy, Trini, Zack, and Kimberly. Five names. He wondered if he would have guessed, wondered if he would have cared enough to guess. He saw them every day at school, every Saturday in detention, but he was usually preoccupied. It wasn't that he was self-centered - he didn't think he was, not that he was the best judge - but when every day was a constant struggle between him and his own skin, it was hard to care much about what else was going on.  
  
But he knew now, and now he had to figure out what to do with this information.  
  
Rita had fallen silent again, apparently she had no suggestions for Tommy's next move.  
  
Or was she just not there? In his pocket, the crystal was relatively cool. His mind was full of racing thoughts, but they were all his own. He slipped a hand into his pocket, wrapping it around the crystal. Heavy, smooth, warmed by his body but no warmer than it should be. Something about they crystal, he thought. Something about its power was how Rita communicated with him. How she controlled him.  
  
The crystal grew hot and Tommy let it go, pulling his hand quickly from his pocket.  
  
She communicated with him, yes, but she didn't control him. Tommy was in charge of himself. He was no one's puppet.  
  
The crystal cooled.  
  
 _What are you going to do?_ Rita asked, finally back. _What are you going to use my gift for?_  
  
Tommy smiled, but kept his mind clear. He had a plan, and a theory, but he didn't want Rita to pick up on either of them. He focused on one thought, distracting her: _You'll be proud of me._  
  
\--  
  
It was hard waiting for the school day to end. So many things kept Tommy on edge - avoiding people's gazes, sitting quiet at the back of his classes, thinking of a way to get out of gym, hiding in a bathroom stall to change when he could not get out of gym, and all day long trying not to think about what he was going to do after school and why.  
  
After school he was going to skip out on his parents again. He was going to follow five people who had done nothing to him - _they banished me, they fought you last night, they are the enemy_ \- to discover their secret hide out so he could...what? Destroy it single-handedly? Laughable. To start with, they would be on their own turf. Then there were their robot dinosaurs, which Tommy had thankfully not had to fight yet but while his armor was amazing and the crystal enhanced his strength and speed, he doubted even mystical alien technology, or whatever this was, would make him as strong as metal dinosaurs.  
  
Tommy hadn't wanted school to last forever since he was in kindergarten and felt so grown up with his backpack and very own coat hook, but today he did  
  
Of course, wishing the day would never end made it go by in a blink and before Tommy knew it that final bell was ringing through the halls and he was sneaking out a back door by the tennis courts to avoid his dad while also keeping an eye out for at least one member of the group he had to keep up with.  
  
Unfortunately, he spotted them out front. Which made sense. That was how most people left school. He'd just kind of figured the Power Rangers would want to slink away, like he was. Though perhaps that would draw more attention than less, which would of course defeat the purpose of the slinking. He kept his head down, but his eyes on the group piling into a red truck - shit how was he supposed to follow that? - but he had forgotten one important detail: Tommy was still wearing that same old jacket, which was a very distinctive green.  
  
"Tommy Oliver, you better not be walking away from me!" His father's voice carried like no one else's, cutting through the post-school chatter straight to Tommy. He froze and looked over. His dad was getting out of a shiny black SUV. His dad was tall and broad shouldered and everything Tommy hoped he would look like someday, but currently he was an absolutely terrifying vision bearing down on Tommy. Not because Tommy was scared of him, just that he already felt guilty enough about everything he had put his parents through and now here he was flagrantly breaking the rules they had laid down for him.  
  
Fuck.  
  
He stopped. "Coming, dad!" he called out, hating the rise to his voice, the way it squeaked out of him. Not a proper, pubescent voice crack. No, this was just another reminder that his body wasn't how it was supposed to be. He blew out a breath, shot a final look at the disappearing tailgate of the red truck, then jogged over to his dad, who was looking down at him with that disappointed frown of his that made Tommy's insides squirm.  
  
He hated disappointing his parents. That was why, beyond convincing them that Tommy was a perfectly reasonable nickname, he hadn't even considered coming out. If they were disappointed in how he was acting, he thought as he pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in, how much more disappointed would that be in what he was?  
  
"You can hang out with your friends when your grounding is over," his dad said, getting back behind the wheel. Tommy ignored the voice in the back of his head, raging at the delay of action, and stared out the window at the houses and trees that passed them by as they made their way home.  
  
Friends.  
  
There was a novel idea.


	7. The Dragon

Rita had been quiet for awhile. Disturbingly quiet. Tommy was actually worried about what she was going to say or do when she finally got over her sulk. How she could do anything while she was over 200,000 miles away was beyond him, but he had learned not to underestimate her.  
  
Tommy was working on his math homework when Rita finally spoke, her voice somehow cold despite only being in his head. _You have to find them. Now_. He thought about protesting. Explaining that he was working on his homework, that he was already in enough trouble, that he couldn't afford to disobey his parents anymore than he already had, but the weight of the crystal in his pocket reminded him over the control she had over him.  
  
So he closed his math book, pulled on his shoes, listened for his parents voices downstairs, then carefully slid the window open, removed the screen, and slipped out, catching the tree branch that grew close to the house. It was slow going, the part of the branch nearest his window was slim and he had to move carefully so his weight didn't break it, sending him tumbling down, but he eventually made it to a thicker section and was able to climb down to the ground.  
  
He stood in the twilight, staring at the house behind him. He'd never snuck out before. He was a good kid. The crystal in his pocket grew warm and Tommy jogged off down the street, not sure where he was going. It wasn't like he was just going to stumble on one of the Rangers and be able to follow them.  
  
 _Try their houses, you fool._  
  
"Because I know where they live."  
  
 _I know._  
  
Rita's temper was short, hot. She had no patience, not anymore. Tommy could feel how frustrated she was, how much she hated having to use a proxy instead of getting things done herself. He followed her instructions to Trini Kwan's house, wondering if this was actually going to work. He stayed hidden across the street, behind a tree, Rita blissfully quiet now that he was in action. He tried to keep his mind blank, but it was hard not to wonder how he could quiet her for good, be himself again. Every time that thought crossed his mind, though, the crystal in his pocket warmed up and he remembered how much she had done for him.  
  
He'd lost track of time when Trini appeared in a window. She slipped out onto the small roof over the front stoop, then climbed carefully down to the ground. She crouched there, waiting, before she set off at a jog. Tommy gave her a head start before setting off after her. He wasn't sure where she was going or if she was even going where he needed her to go, but it couldn't hurt to follow.  
  
And it kept Rita quiet.  
  
When he realized Trini was heading for the old mine, he almost doubled back and went home. No trespassing signs littered the area and there were security personnel patrolling the area. Apparently they had increased the number of security teams after Rita's attack.  
  
Tommy's pocket grew hot and he froze. _I just wanted what's mine_ , Rita's voice in his head was cold again. He still wasn't sure how that was possible, but he wasn't sure how any of this was possible. _It isn't my fault the humans misunderstood._  
  
Despite the burn of the crystal in his pocket and the cloud edging at his mind, Tommy couldn't accept what Rita was saying. Still, he banished all thought of her as a villain and focused on Trini. He'd stopped a ways back, ducking down behind an outcropping of rock to watch as she climbed the fence. On the other side, she met up with Zack and Tommy blew out a sigh. He was going to have to follow them. If Trini had been alone, he could have just gone home and pretended none of this ever happened. But two rangers meant there were likely more and they were probably up to something important.  
  
He could, he knew, turn around and go home. But he wouldn't get very far before the crystal burned his thigh and his mind fogged over and Rita sent him in anyway.  
  
He waited until they'd disappeared over a hill before jogging over and climbing the fence himself.  
  
It was strangely easy to stay out of sight. Ducking behind outcroppings, creeping up hills. He wondered if they knew he was there and were only humoring him. Possible, he supposed. Though why that hadn't confronted him yet if that were the case was beyond him. He wasn't that much of a threat, really. Most of his 'victories' so far had been dumb luck. Dumb luck and Rita's crystal urging him on.  
  
Rita's crystal.  
  
He'd thought of it as his own when he found it. It had given him so much. A mask, a body he didn't hate. But it had also given him Rita and the more he used its power the more he knew it wasn't truly his. It was hers more than anything, and it was through the crystal that she had control over him. He tried to push these thoughts aside before Rita caught him, but his pocket grew hotter than it had yet and he fell to his knees, biting his tongue against a cry of pain.  
  
 _I saved you_ , Rita said, her voice loud in his mind. It would have been deafening if it had been that sort of yell, as it was it just filled his head with a dull ache and white flashes crossed his vision for a moment before the pain cleared and he was able to pull in a full breath again. _You were lost and alone and I gave you such a gift! You ungrateful child!_  
  
"I'm sorry," Tommy whispered. "I'm so sorry." He almost toppled over but the pain disappeared and the heat in his pocket lessened until he could only tell the crystal was there by its weight.  
  
 _Get up_ , Rita snapped, _find the Rangers. Find me Zordon._  
  
He got up. He kept walking. He had lost sight of Zack and Trini. One too many hills, one too many outcroppings, and now it was just him in the vast, empty mine. He trudged forward, hoping they hadn't turned somewhere. With his luck there was a cave hidden away from view that you could only find if you knew it was there and he would be wandering alone for the rest of the day in search of it.  
  
He never expected the chasm.  
  
He stood on the edge, looking down, wondering what was at the bottom. It couldn't be them, could it? They couldn't have found a way down there? Or jumped? He wondered if his powers would save him if he tumbled down to whatever awaited. He supposed he had to try. If they weren't down there it would be a waste of time, but if he didn't check and they were...  
  
 _Wait_ , Rita's voice. The crystal warmed. _I sense something. Jump the gap._  
  
Tommy blew out a breath and took a few steps back before running and leaping across to the other side. He landed hard, his knees jarring before he tumbled forward into a roll. He stood up slowly, rubbing his knees and grumbling. "What is it?" he asked, trying to ignore the heat in his pocket.  
  
 _Do you see the mountains?_ Rita asked and Tommy looked ahead at looming hills of rock, untouched by explosives or digging. He nodded. _Good, morph._  
  
Tommy pulled in a breath and closed his eyes, reaching into the morphing grid. The armor covered him and he opened his eyes again, smiling to himself at the feeling of it, the way it made his body feel right for the first time since puberty. He wondered if losing himself to Rita was worth it to find himself.  
  
 _Oh shut up_ , Rita said, _I'm helping you, aren't I?_ Tommy didn't have an answer and only stood still, waiting for her next instructions. _Zordon knows you're here, she said, so you'll have to be quick. Draw your knife._  
  
Confused, Tommy did as he was told, holding the blade carefully in his right hand.  
  
 _Do you see the holes?_  
  
Tommy turned his hand and studied the hilt. "Yes," he said.  
  
 _Blow into the guard and use the holes on the grip to play this tune._ She hummed a short tune in his head, repeating it twice before falling silent.  
  
"I've never played the flute," Tommy said.  
  
 _I'll help you, now do it._  
  
He raised the knife to his lips, unsure how this was going to work with the helmet. But somehow his breath made it through and he blew into the grip. A long, high note echoed over the empty desert. His chest warmed and he played the tune, Rita helping him get the notes right.  
  
After, he wondered what was supposed to have happened. The mountains before him remained still and silent. Nothing seemed to be happening. What was the point of this?  
  
Then he heard the roar.  
  
It was coming from the direction of the coast and he turned, squinting against the sun, to see a looming zord walking towards him. It looked like something out of a movie, like Godzilla or a dragon, shining green and roaring as it marched to the mines.  
  
 _This is the Dragon Zord_ , Rita said. She sounded smug. _It's yours._  
  
Tommy blew out a breath and jumped up, the Dragon's cockpit opened up to him and he settled in, gripping the controls. He turned towards the mountain Rita had pointed out, just in time to see the side of it open and five hulking metal creatures rush out. Heading towards him.  
  
The Power Rangers in their zords.  
  
Tommy grinned, letting his faceplate slide back so he could better see the console before him as he steered the Dragon forward to meet a racing tyrannosaurus.  
  
If it had only been one of them, Tommy figured he might have had a chance. Maybe even two, the power of the Dragon zord surprised him as he crashed into the tyrannosaur, fist connecting with its face. He got cocky, really. The tyrannosaur stumbled backward and Tommy rushed it, pressing the attack and forgetting that there were three other zords running in to flank him and one up above. The pterodactyl came out of nowhere, catching the dragon's shoulders and pushing him back a stumbling step. Enough to create a space between him and the tyrannosaur so the mamoth and the triceratops could sweep in and drive him further back. He kept up his defense but then the tiger crashed into the dragon's legs and it fell to its knees and all five of his opponents swarmed him. Driving him back and down.  
  
The dragon roared and Tommy was ejected from the cockpit. He collapsed into a heap as his wounded zord roared and threw off the other five, climbing to its feet and trudging away towards the sea.  
  
Tommy's entire body ached. He could hear Rita screaming in his mind, felt his armor fading away. He squinted up into the sunlight at a shape, a shadow, a person standing over him. He wondered who it was, what they were seeing, but it didn't really matter. What mattered now was how much he hurt, how tired he was, how nice it was to let his eyes fall closed.


End file.
